I am learning to rejoice in low-to-the-ground terrain because so much growth waits for me there. I need only lean into it. The valley does not mean you're on lockdown, it means your growth is precious to God.

I'm learning it is one thing to know your weakness and another thing to project your weakness out of fear that you don't add up. At the end of each day, I am not my anxiety. I am not my depression. I don't need to walk out onto a stage and let everyone know I am nervous. Anxiety is something I face but it's on me if I use it as a crutch or I choose to limit what God is already doing when I give it undue credit.

I get emails all the time from people asking me to write about how, just how, to walk with someone through the woods. Through the pain of depression. Through a dark valley of an unseen illness that steals sleep and daily ambition.

And don’t you know that you are everywhere? You are in the trees. In the leftover slices of pizza that you should’ve ate in the middle of the night. In the side of the bed that makes me want to stay filthy forever if it means I’ll never have to lose your scent on the sheets.